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Book The First - Sowing | Charles Dickens | |
Chapter XII - The Old Woman |
Page 4 of 4 |
Filled with these thoughts - so filled that he had an unwholesome sense of growing larger, of being placed in some new and diseased relation towards the objects among which he passed, of seeing the iris round every misty light turn red - he went home for shelter. |
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Hard Times Charles Dickens |
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